by Ruth Wariner
Warm tears streamed down my face as I thought of the years ahead. My head felt so heavy I had to bury my face in my hands and prop by elbows on my knees. Leah stood up and looked at me fearfully, her eyes beginning to water too. I wiped my cheeks and adjusted Holly to make room for Leah on my lap. I took in a deep breath, lowered my head between theirs, and cried as softly as I could.
At long last we arrived at a compromise, though not exactly a happy one. Lane decided that the children could take turns visiting their grandmother one at a time. Aaron would be first, Luke second, and me and the girls third. As for Matt, later that night he confided that he and Maria would elope over the weekend. Maria was just seventeen so the whole thing needed to be kept a secret.
“Please, Matt,” I said, crying, “take me and the girls with you.”
“We can’t, Ruthie. Lane will never let us take the girls. Sit tight. We’ll figure somethin’ out.”
“But I don’t even have money for diapers or baby formula,” I said in desperation. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Don’t look at me. I used every last dollar to pay for the whole funeral.” His frustration gave way to an idea. “But don’t worry. Just charge anything you need at Maudy’s store. When I get paid again, I’ll wire the money to pay the bill.”
“Matt, please. Please don’t leave us here with him.”
“I don’t have any choice, Ruthie. If anything happens, call me. I’ll get here as fast as I can.”
* * *
EARLY THE NEXT morning, Aaron threw his bag of clothes and collection of He-Man action figures into the back of Matt’s truck. Just ten years old, he had to duck to get inside the short camper shell. He slammed the glass door closed and sat with his back propped up straight on a pillow against the cab, facing us as we stood to watch him leave. Aaron looked away for a moment and tried to appear casual as he leafed through a comic book. But when the motor started, he looked up again, raised his hand, and slowly waved. His lips began to quiver and his tan cheeks turned bright red. Soon, he was crying, his head growing smaller and smaller as the truck kicked up dust on the road.
A few hours later, Lane announced that he was going away for work and taking Luke with him. The rest of us would stay with Alejandra and her family, who were themselves staying with her parents in Casas, as there was still no electricity at their house. Lane dropped us off at the same three-room adobe home we’d visited with Mom just a few days earlier, back when my biggest worry was candy in a piñata.
41
A cool breeze blew in from the window one night while I was sleeping, waking me with the news that autumn had arrived. I was shivering, goose bumps covering my arms and legs, in spite of being surrounded by three warm bodies. I soon realized that the back of my nightshirt was soaked in urine. For a moment I thought that Audrey might be next to me, but then I stood up and looked down at Elena, Leah, and Holly sleeping soundly beneath me. It could have been any one of them, as all three were wearing diapers. I suspected Elena, who, at four years old and already potty-trained, had begun to wet the bed after Mom’s death. The baby diapers were too small for a four-year-old. I closed the window over the bed, gingerly stepped over my sisters onto the bare floor, and shuddered when I felt the cold cement beneath my feet.
Two months had passed since Mom and Micah died, and my sisters and I had been shuttled from house to house within the colony. Matt and Maria had made good on their promise to marry and were living in San Diego. Aaron did not come back from California when school started, just as I’d both feared and hoped. Luke was usually away on work trips with Lane, whose absence ensured that we would continue to be nomads in the colony for the foreseeable future.
Most recently we’d been living with Marjory. Hers was the most comfortable of all our temporary shelters. She was the most energetic of Lane’s wives and lived in the newest, biggest, and calmest home. All of her children were grown and had already moved out.
We’d ended up there after Marjory had a dream in which God had come to her and proclaimed that she would be the woman to raise Lane’s motherless children. Marjory’s meager existence was supported by her eldest sons, who, like Matt, worked in the States. The whole situation was incredibly awkward, but at least we had hot running water and electricity, neither of which had been installed by my stepdad.
That fall morning, Marjory left soon after breakfast to go shopping in a neighboring town for a few hours. Not long afterward, Elena, who’d been playing outside, burst into the house, bright eyed and thrilled, exclaiming, “Daddy brought us a goat!” Leah froze in the midst of eating one of Marjory’s brownies, her mouth open and surrounded by crumbs. “Hey, Leah, Daddy brought us a goat!” repeated Elena. “Come out and see it!”
The pair looked at me and I nodded. They left the kitchen door open when they ran out, Leah dressed in a T-shirt and terry-cloth sweatpants. I took Holly out of her baby walker, wiped chocolate from her face and hands, and followed the girls outside.
Sure enough, there was Lane with a small, white goat at his side. The passenger door of the truck opened and Luke stepped out. His shaggy hair was greasy and sticking up in the back. I avoided Lane pointedly, running up to Luke and throwing my arms around my brother. He hadn’t showered in quite some time and he smelled terrible.
“I’m so happy to see you,” I whispered to Luke, who was so surprised and embarrassed by the attention that his face turned red. “How was your trip?”
He just smiled and looked down at his feet. I patted him on the back and told him to go inside and clean up.
“I think goat’s milk will be better for Holly’s stomach,” Lane said in a rare gesture of sympathy toward his daughter, who was still having trouble adjusting to formula. Holly sat on my hip, and he reached over to touch her cheek. She grasped his grease-stained finger and shook it like a rattle. Lane smiled. I looked in the other direction.
“I don’t know how to milk a goat,” I said under my breath.
Elena reached out to pet the animal, and it dashed away, dragging the rope around its neck behind. “Don’t stand behind it,” Lane yelled as his daughters gave chase. “It might kick ya with its back legs.” He looked at me and gave me one of his stomach-turning smiles. “See if you can get one of the boys in town to milk it for ya.”
I stepped sideways onto the sidewalk that ran through the middle of the small front lawn, and his finger separated from Holly’s grasp. As difficult as the last few years had been, Mom had at least made good on her promise to keep that revolting man at a distance. But now she was gone, and all barriers had been removed.
Lane took his hand back from Holly’s and gave me a questioning look, as if he couldn’t understand why I might be uncomfortable.
“I really miss your mom,” he said with such sincerity that I nodded in sympathy. “She was so good in bed. She gave herself to me like none of my other wives ever did.”
If I hadn’t had a child in my arms, I would have slapped him. I whipped around and rushed back toward the house.
“I have to go to El Paso to collect rent on my mobile homes,” he called out, referring to his latest business venture. “Not sure how long I’ll be gone.”
Hallelujah, I mouthed, and walked into the kitchen.
Lane followed close behind. “Make sure Luke’s ready when I get back, because he needs to go to work with me in the mountains.” I nodded, my eyes downcast, angry as he flopped his filthy hands onto the white tile counter I’d just cleaned. “Oh, and … I want to take Elena with me too.”
I felt goose bumps prickle on my arms and a knot formed in my stomach. “Why the hell would you want to take a four-year-old girl to help you in the mountains?” I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes.
Lane was surprised at my intensity and took a step back. “Hey, she needs to learn how to work just like everyone else in this family. What’s the big deal?”
“Who’s going to feed her and watch her while you guys are workin’?”
Lane waved me off. “
She can ride on the tractor with me.” He grabbed a brownie and bit into it, sending dark crumbs falling to the floor.
“I really don’t think it’s a good idea for you to take her to work with you right now, not so soon after everything that’s happened.” I took a deep breath, trying to remain casual.
“Well, she’s my daughter, and it’s not your choice.” He gave a little laugh.
Finally, I could take it no longer. A wave of rage ripped through me. “Well, guess what?” I yelled, shaking. “She’s my sister. So if you take one of us, you’re taking all of us. Because over my dead body is that little girl going anywhere without me to watch her!”
Taken aback by my ferocity, Lane held up his hands and stepped away from me. “Fine, whatever. I’ll take her with me to the mountains another time.” He opened the refrigerator. “Ya got any milk around here?”
“No, I don’t. Your wife’s out grocery shopping right now.” I made a beeline for the door and opened it for him to leave.
After a second he got the hint, closed the fridge, and shuffled my way. “I’ll see you when I get back from El Paso.” He smiled, and my stomach turned again.
He left, but the energy he’d unleashed was still in me, and I paced the kitchen for a few minutes, chewing my fingernails. He is the most repulsive, selfish, awful man in the world, I thought to myself. I slapped my hands hard onto the kitchen table as I threw myself into a chair.
“What’s wrong, Ruthie?”
I smelled the soap first. It was Luke. I’d almost forgotten about him. He took the seat next to me, and I noticed that his hair wasn’t matted anymore. It was clean and wet, but still uncombed. My brother—still like a little boy who has to be reminded to shower, shave, and comb his hair—is more caring and understanding than a man with two wives and twenty-five children, I thought.
I smiled and shook my head. “I’m fine.” I offered him a brownie.
“I fink ’Lena and Leah like the little goat. Right, Ruthie?” he said with his mouth full. He took another bite and smacked.
“I think they love the goat, Lukey. Just like you do, right?”
“Yeah, dat’s right. We got him in the mountains.”
We sat quietly for a few minutes. The hard plastic wheels on Holly’s walker squeaked over the linoleum floor, the goat bleated outside the open window, and my sisters giggled in the backyard. I smiled as Luke finished his brownie and licked crumbs from the corners of his mouth, my anger finally dissipating.
“You like working with Lane in the mountains, Lukey?”
“It’s not too bad.” He put his elbows on the table. He looked at me confused for a moment, as if at a loss for words, which wasn’t uncommon for Luke. But then the moment grew longer and longer.
“What is it you want to say?”
“’Cept … um … ah…”
“Except for what, Luke?”
“’Cept, I’n not too sure if I trust Lane too much, ya know?” Luke scratched his temple and looked down at the table, his face turning a ghostly color.
My heart stopped. “What do you mean?” I tried to catch his glance but he wouldn’t look at me. “Why don’t you trust Lane?”
“Ah, I’n not too sure.” Luke’s head slowly turned back but his eyes remained fixed on the table. “Um, I fink sonetines he touches me at night, when I’n sleepin’. Sonetines with his hands, sonetines with his foot, ya know? It’s kinda strange.”
I couldn’t breathe. I felt as if I were choking. “Where, Luke? Show me.”
Slowly, he lowered his arm from the table and patted himself over the zipper of his baggy jeans. My stomach seized with nausea, my throat closed, and my eyelids stung with the beginnings of tears. And then—No. No tears, I said to myself. Not now.
I felt hot and full of anger. I was overcome by trembling. When it came to my own abuse, I had always felt dejected, powerless, and completely bottled up. But the moment I realized that my gentle, defenseless, disabled brother had suffered the same fate, an unfamiliar impulse came over me, a passion so primitive I couldn’t make it go away. I had to act. I had to act now.
A sound from outside startled me. Marjory was home.
“Don’t tell no one what you told me, ’kay?” I grabbed Luke’s shoulder. “Okay?” He nodded. “I’m gonna find someone—”
The door flew open and I sat up straight in my chair.
“Well, hello there,” said Marjory, noticing Luke as she cheerfully carried in a wooden crate of groceries. “Welcome back.” A light, warm gust of air blew across the room as she closed the door.
You have to calm down, Ruthie, I told myself.
“Everything okay?” Marjory asked.
“Yep.” I sucked in air and bit my bottom lip. “Thanks for the brownies. We’ve been eatin’ them all day,”
“Where did Lane go?” She peered at Luke, suspicious of his silence.
“Um … I think he went to Alejandra’s for tonight,” I said. “He said he’s going to El Paso tomorrow to collect rent.”
“Well, it’s about time.” Marjory rolled her eyes. “I hope he brings us some money.”
“He brought us a goat.” It was the only thing to say.
She cringed. “A goat?”
I laughed lightly at her reaction, relieved that she was buying my performance. “Yeah, he says the milk might make Holly’s stomach feel better. Elena and Leah are playing with it in the backyard.”
“Well, sounds like fun,” Marjory said with more than a trace of sarcasm.
“Hey.” I stood up. “Do you mind if I go to Maudy’s store? I think I’ll call Matt. I want to see when he’s coming back to town.”
She looked at me and shrugged. “Well, all right. Be sure to tell him hello for me. And tell him not to worry. You kids are doing great here.”
I looked down. My hands were shaking. I stuffed them into my Levi’s. “Will do.” I almost sprinted to the door.
“What’s the hurry? Have your sisters had lunch yet?”
“Not yet,” I yelled over my shoulder, and closed the door.
42
I ran to Maudy’s on quiet side roads, avoiding eye contact with anyone who might know Lane, which was everyone. I couldn’t stop thinking about all the people who’d urged me to shrug off Lane’s behavior: my mom, who said, “We have to show God we have the power to forgive, just like Jesus in the Bible.” And Lane’s sister Lisa, who, on the day of Mom’s funeral, had turned to me in the car and said, “Haven’t you already put Lane through enough? He’s not botherin’ you no more. Come on, Ruthie. You and I both know he coulda done lots worse to you. So why don’t you stop bein’ such a brat about it? You should act more Christlike, like your dad did. He believed in forgiveness and you should too.” Even Lane’s own words—“Hatred will eat ya up inside and take ya straight to hell”—gnawed at me. When I thought about what he was now doing to my brother, I felt like retching.
All the words I’d ever heard in church, and at all the conferences and Sunday-school classes, seemed to be taunting me now: honor thy father, honor thy mother, be like Christ, be good, count your blessings, do what you’re told, prophets, men, husbands, gods, visions, dreams, destruction, forgiveness, sacrifice, submission, faith, Babylon, heaven and all the blessed little children …
I realized that all those words, words that had held such power throughout my childhood, words that had characterized our way of life, words that had defined me, my siblings, our mom—they meant nothing to me. All the preaching, all the hours in church memorizing scriptures, how could that mean anything when the community supporting it wouldn’t defend the innocence and safety of a child? With a certainty that took my breath away, I decided I had to get away from LeBaron, and I had to bring my siblings with me. I vowed that my siblings would not suffer the way I had.
I swung open the metal-framed glass door at Maudy’s. Stucco dust rained down as it slammed against the exterior wall. The wooden phone booth was on the other side of the store—and occupied.
“
Buenas tardes,” said a young Mexican woman behind the white tile counter.
“I need to make a collect call to the States,” I said breathlessly, hoping she wouldn’t ask why I hadn’t paid our standing bill. She pointed at a plastic chair where I could sit until the phone was free. I passed a nervous few minutes, my white plastic tennis shoes wagging the entire time, until the man was finished.
When at last the phone was free, I jumped up, punched the number, and tried to collect myself for the Mexican operator who would connect the call. After a few mumbled exchanges, I heard the sound of a distant ring. Matt answered after the second one. “Yes, I’ll accept the charges.”
“Matt?” was all I could say before dissolving into tears.
“Ruthie? Is that you?”
I fell to the booth’s stool and slumped forward, the receiver in the crick of my neck, my face in my hands. “Matt.”
“What’s up, Sis? Tell me what’s goin’ on.”
“Matt,” I whispered, “you have to come and get me. You have to come and get all of us.”
“Why, Ruthie?” His voice was calm and caring, but had a hint of doubt, as if he thought I might be overreacting about something.
“You. Cannot. Leave. Us. Here. Anymore,” I had never spoken more seriously to my brother in my life. And then I began to sob.
He paused for a second, surprised by my tone. “Uh, okay. Well, tell me what’s goin’ on.” His voice was serious but reassuring.
“Luke…”
“What? Is he all right, Ruthie?”
At last the words tumbled out. I told him what Lane had done to Luke, and that he planned to take Elena to the mountains.
“That … dirty … son of a bitch.” The anger in Matt’s voice was almost uncontrolled. “That … bastard. Who else knows about this?”
“Nobody. Luke hasn’t told anyone.”
